No, I'm serious!!
They're pretty humorous as they're happening, too.
Ok, so it wasn't technically
a "nervous breakdown".
It may have been more of a Communication Breakdown...
nah, that was just the Zepellin CD playing in the background.
Of my head.
Anyway, here's the scoop:
when I got the "word" on Friday, I just sort of tucked it away.
Mr. Anderson had been out of town all week and I was focused on his return.
(yes, say it like the Matrix, "...that is the sound of inevitability." fuck yes.)
Then there was the play to see Friday night,
and write about on Saturday,
the play to see Saturday,
the BBQ to go to after,
the 2nd play to be written about Sunday morning,
the shopping for the Sunday night BBQ to be done,
the editor to meet with,
and the 2nd BBQ to go to.
Whew, that made me tired.
So, BBQs aside, I knew that my creative powers were sort of spoken for until (at the earliest) Sunday at 3pm, when I met with my editor, so I didn't process the flim-flam festival yet.
Cuz I knew I had a commitment to write two articles before I could start that.
I pushed my limit, and was 20 minutes late to my meeting, in order to finish the second review.
It was closer to 300 words than the requisite 500, and the final sentence was "something something and."
...editor asked me if I had something in mind to follow the conjunction at that junction.
I said, "Yeah, uh...nope. Not a thing. Just sorta trailed off there."
He perfuctorily deleted the "and" and moved right along.
He liked them both, but the second one was really pretty shoddy.
It was a rough draft with one read-through.
The other one I like better, or maybe I just liked that play better.
If I thought it was tough juggling two reviews in 3 days, what in the
am I thinking, signing up for 25 film descriptions in 7 days???
The long-story-short of it is that I was relieved to have been able to turn in and edit both reviews today, because that saved me more time in two different ways.
One, not having to spend more time writing it, and
two, not having to spend two hours of my day just to "edit" it.
After today's 7 minutes for two pieces session,
I'm pretty sure I'm going to ask if I can do these over the phone.
It's a little silly.
I'm gooood, man, I don't need no stinkin' editing.
Not from some whipper snapper, at least.
I like doing it.
It makes me feel cool.
I'm easily the hottest girl to enter that newsroom.
...uh, make that "woman".
jesus fuckin' christ I'm old.
So, the relief I felt from having finished that commitment was bum rushed by the reality of the festival situation and I started sort of freaking out.
I tried calling just about everyone I could think of...
left a couple of shaky messages with girlfriends,
I just looked up at the tv, which hubby is setting up with the new HD dish gear,
and a show on comedy central that is going to be on later tonight is called
Dog Bites Man.
That makes me smile.
And it reminds me of how cool it is when someone quotes you, and you remember it as something they had previously written, not yourself.
Did that make sense?
Eh, it did to one of you.
Where was I?
Oh yeah...at the beginning of the breakdown.
So, then I arrived at my niece's house to pick her up (and her husband) for the family birthday BBQ thingy (because it's 45 miles away, and have you SEEN gas prices??).
When we got in the car to leave,
I almost backed into a passing vehicle.
We laughed, and I called myself names.
We continued on.
Approaching a red light, I planned to turn right,
but as we drew closer, I discovered that it was the wrong street,
so I would be better off continuing straight.
It was STILL a red light, but I almost just flew through it.
They corrected my near-mistake.
The guy behind me laughed his ass off, and I cursed at him...
and called myself some more names.
At this point, I explained that I was sort of under some stress.
So then, blah blah, go pick up my family and head south.
Party is fun, happy--good times.
The youngest child, my three year old nephew, was playing near the swings.
He walked past one of the swings, and right into a person swinging.
I think it was a grownup, because when his mom rushed over to pick him up, I looked over and saw a young woman collapse in tears into her boyfriend/husband's arms.
It knocked the tears right out of me.
It was like getting punched in the gut.
I don't even know quite how to describe it, because my point here is that all my stress surged out of me in that moment.
It was one of those emotional releases, you know?
I almost never hold my stress in like that, so I almost never have a release like that, but, maaaaaaaaaaan.
It was intense.
I felt kind of silly, getting all teary over a little boy's spill, although that isn't really what moved me.
It was the woman's response.
I felt her anguish, her guilt, her sorrow for having hurt a sweet little blonde baby boy.
I knew exactly how she felt, and it's like we connected in that split second and my anxiety rushed out the same way her sadness did.
It was wild.
I felt truly insane.
My niece, who is seriously one of the sweetest and solid people I know, came over and gave me a little half hug and said something just right.
Something that didn't make me feel more embarassed (although I was laughing about it almost as soon as the first tear trickled) or more emotional (which is good, because I would not have been able to handle that...).
And I laughed and said, "I told you I was going to have a nervous breakdown today!!"
Now you know: I cry sometimes, too.
It's not just for sissies anymore.
(sadly, the status juuust changed, so anyone caught crying before today still qualifies. You know who you are.)
It's gonna be cool.
I'm really not all that stressed, by the way.
It was just the fact that I didn't process a large chunk of information properly.
Like...I knew it was out there, and I know this week is going to be pretty busy, but I'm cool with that.
I'm goingn to stay
I have a plan, and a schedule.
And then our friends just called...
Wednesday at 2.
Same band as the other night.
Intense, heavy shit.
Did I mention the guitarist looks like a sexier version of Elijah Wood?
scrawny young thing, but still.
in that sonnet-y way.
in that i wouldn't touch him for fear of turning to steam and evaporating into the night air.
More thoughts on the cross-country trek:
well, first of all, I've adored reading all your comments on the subject,
and will pop back in and answer them later (or tomorrow...), but.
I must say a few quick things:
a. I would rather endure 4 days of nightmarish road trip hell by myself than put 300 passengers at risk of involuntary manslaughter. double. (and trust me, it would be involuntary--or self-defense, at least!)
b. we're probably flying to Maine, anyway, so to hell with that reasoning.
c. I hate lists today.
d. why am I still making one??
e. if the 1100 miles of barren nothingness of Wyoming and Nebraska didn't exist, I might be more inclined to acquiesce to the driving bullshit.
actually, Nancy reminded me, that if I took I-70 instead of I-80, I could go through the gorgeous rockies and lovely Kansas, AND stop in for chit-chat/twin fest...hmmm...will have to consider. I've always wanted to go I-70.
I could make it the first leg of my blogger world tour...
Bring my video camera, make a documentary of it.
One crazy woman's journey to sanity--the back way.
Maybe I better put the goddamned horse before the cart, eh???
Be congratulated for their brilliance by Big Man.
Scurry to festival for face-to-face introduction so as to make more of an impression.
And, of course, pitch him my brilliant movie idea.
(yes, I have one. No, I'm not telling.)
Please don't call the funny farm on me.
I'll be just fine.
Both at once.